


Comfortable Middle Ground

by Buffintruder



Series: Aro Spec Awareness Week [9]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aro-Spec Character, Aromantic Character, Grayromantic Character, High School AU, M/M, aromantic spectrum awareness week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 04:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buffintruder/pseuds/Buffintruder
Summary: Figuring out crushes is a whole lot harder as an aro-spec person





	Comfortable Middle Ground

The world is dark and quiet as Courfeyrac lies in his bed. Without anything to distract his senses other than the gentle press of blankets and the distant sound of rumbling cars, his focus is entirely on the thoughts in his mind. They flow smoothly through his head with a clarity that is not normally there in waking hours.

 

Currently, they are focused on Combeferre, his friend. Courfeyrac doesn’t know anybody as smart or responsible as Combeferre is. He admires him for that, though that is just the start of the long list of wonderful qualities Combeferre has. There is the dry humor that Combeferre likes to pretend he doesn’t have, the sharpness he can use to tear someone apart in only a few words, the softness in his eyes when he looks at somebody he cares about, and his intense love of science and history, just to name a few.

 

Courfeyrac isn’t entirely certain why his thoughts circle so closely around Combeferre, why all he wants to do in this peaceful time to himself is to remember the conversation they had during lunch, the way Combeferre lit up when he described the birth and weird properties of a neutron star, the way the world seemed to brighten when Combeferre grinned in astonishment of the marvelous universe they live in.

 

_ Maybe you  _ like _ him _ , whispers a part of his mind that Courfeyrac thought he had learned to ignore by now. Courfeyrac knows he is aromantic, that he does not feel romantic attraction, and he has been at peace with it for nearly two years. 

 

The realization included some disappointment at first, because it was hard not to feel bad about knowing he would never want the thing that all of society told him was the most wonderful part of life. But now he is proud of this aspect of himself. There are so many things he loves about being aro, and he wouldn’t change who he is for anything. It may be an identity that he has to fight every step of the way to protect, but it is an important part of his self. 

 

Before he learned that he is aromantic, Courfeyrac still expected himself to feel romantic feelings towards someone, like everybody said he would. He analyzed the interactions he had with others (especially with girls because of heteronormativity, but really with anybody he was close to), trying to find the feelings towards someone that could be explained by romance. 

 

He liked this person’s smile, and that person was the most interesting conversationalist, and this other person was incredibly beautiful, and he desperately wanted to get to know that person better. So he took those feelings and tried to push them into the narrative he knew. No matter how well he managed to convince himself that this time it was an actual crush, after a few weeks, he always came to the conclusion that it didn’t fit. Courfeyrac had many feelings about many people, but none of them felt like the romance that so many people talked about.

 

After finding the word aromantic, Courfeyrac has stopped thinking about whether he has romantic feelings for people as much. There is always a bit of doubt in an orientation that is defined by the lack of something, but at seventeen, Courfeyrac is fairly certain that he isn’t a late bloomer and that he isn’t going to change.

 

And yet.

 

His mind drifts back to Combeferre, his wonderful friend of six years. Because apparently this part of his brain hasn’t finished trying to find signs romantic feelings in his interactions with others, even if the rest of him has. And even though parts of the thought make lots of sense, it is only because Courfeyrac is grasping for evidence to support an impossible claim, twisting the truth until it matches.

 

He cares deeply about Combeferre and wants to spend time with him, but he doesn’t place his connection with Combeferre above those with all of his other friends. It’s different, but not necessarily better. (But of course, being in the aro community has taught him the value of friendship, so he would actively fight against the idea of placing romance above other relationships, no matter his true feelings for Combeferre. So that isn’t really an accurate test.) 

 

Courfeyrac doesn’t feel nervous or awkward around Combeferre in the way that people with crushes are shown to be. (Except he’s known Combeferre for too long and too closely to get over-excited or nervous about each interaction. And even with all of that time and closeness, Courfeyrac still fixates on his time spent with Combeferre so that’s hardly an argument  _ against _ romantically liking Combeferre.)

 

There are no fluttery butterfly feeling or blushing when Courfeyrac is around Combeferre. (There was sometimes a pleasant warm sensation in Courfeyrac’s stomach whenever Combeferre did something particularly amazing or cute, which was just about all the time, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He feels lots of warm feelings towards all of his friends. Maybe not quite in the same way as he does with Combeferre, but still. The feelings he has for each of his friends is unique.)

 

The idea of him dating people still disgusts him. Kissing seems bizarre and utterly unappealing, as do the strict guidelines and regulations of dating people. (But if he imagines doing it with Combeferre, it doesn’t seem nearly as terrible. He might actually enjoy it, holding hands with Combeferre at a movie theater, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, exchanging sappy and flirtatious words, letting lips meet. Courfeyrac wants to know how that would all feel like, if it was with Combeferre. For curiosity’s sake.)

 

He might have romantic feelings for his best friend, Courfeyrac realizes. 

 

There is nothing conclusive yet, however, and pondering his true feelings all night will do nothing but drive him around in hopeless circles. He flips himself onto his stomach and frustratedly clutches his pillow, the physical world becoming real once more and bringing him slightly out of the whirlpool of his thoughts. 

 

There are so many implications, if this possibility really is true, but Courfeyrac doesn’t want to think about it right now. He doesn’t really know anything, and nothing can be proved. He’ll pay more attention to his interactions with Combeferre, but tonight, that is all he will decide. This is far too big of a problem to be dealt with in the short amount of time before he falls asleep.

 

Forcing his mind to focus on anything other than his own emotions or on Combeferre, Courfeyrac eventually sinks closer and closer to sleep.

...

The next time Courfeyrac sees Combeferre is during the few minutes at school in the morning before the bell rings. Combeferre is already there with a few other members of their group when Courfeyrac arrives at their usual meeting space.

 

Combeferre looks up when Courfeyrac enters the little circle of people and he smiles, which feels quite comforting after all the anxiety he felt about interacting with Combeferre again after he realized his crush—his  _ possible _ crush—on him. It feels normal, even though the thoughts and questions in Courfeyrac’s head aren’t.

 

“Good morning!” Courfeyrac greets everyone. He gets a variety of responses ranging from enthusiastic (Jehan) to grumpy (Musichetta), but he pays particular attention to Combeferre’s.

 

It is a simple “Hey,” and Courfeyrac isn’t sure how he is supposed to feel about that. He feels a bit tense, but he can’t tell if it’s a romance thing or just because Courfeyrac is overthinking his reactions and thoughts so much that he can’t tell anymore what is genuine and what is being affected by his observation and intense analysis of them.

 

The conversation is taken up by the rest of the group so Courfeyrac doesn’t really have the chance to talk to Combeferre alone before the bell rings. He doesn’t mind it much because they end up arguing about candy with nuts versus candy without nuts and Courfeyrac has _opinions_ about it, so he gets swept into the discussion with ease. Which might be evidence that he doesn’t like Combeferre romantically. Or it might just be evidence that he is a well-balanced person who isn’t obsessed with the person he likes.

 

Lunch offers no better conclusions. Courfeyrac loves Combeferre and he loves spending time with him and he loves talking with him. This is no new information. It’s only the nature of that love that Courfeyrac is questioning. It doesn’t help that he isn’t entirely sure what counts as romantic love and what doesn’t.

 

After school, Courfeyrac looks it up online, digging through aromantic blogs because he trusts their answers to focus more on what is romantic attraction without bringing sexual attraction into the mix or to rely on heteronormative stereotypes. It doesn’t end up being very helpful. Some people say butterflies in the stomach are a sure sign of it being romantic attraction. Others give it as an example of things that are similar between romantic and platonic feelings. The other distinctions are vague and don’t help clarify anything. How is Courfeyrac supposed to know if the feelings he feels around Combeferre are warm, fuzzy, and light in the way that is romantic?

 

In the end, the one thing that it all seems to boil down to is how he wants to describe his feelings. And that isn’t useful because Courfeyrac is biased, and the reason he doesn’t want his feelings to be romantic has nothing to do with accurate descriptors. He’s spent too long being proud of being aromantic, too long detaching himself from the concept of being personally involved in romance, too long telling himself he doesn’t need it, that he’s better without it. He wants to continue life as it was because he had just gotten comfortable with it. He doesn’t want to give up that confidence.

 

_ Don’t dream too far _

_ Don’t lose sight of who you are _

 

The lyrics pop into Courfeyrac’s head. He is aromantic, and it’s part of who he is, and he’s fought so hard to accept it that he can’t bear to lose it now. He doesn’t want a fantasy of romantic feelings to take that away from him, to make him forget what his orientation means to him. But his mind continues to play the song.

 

_ Don’t remember that rush of joy _

_ He could be that boy... _

 

Courfeyrac tries to push the rest of the song out of his mind. That verse is truer than he wants it to be at the moment, even if much of the rest of the song is irrelevant to his situation. There is a certain thrilling excitement at the thought of being in love with Combeferre, even if it is just society brainwashing him.

 

And so what, maybe Combeferre “could be that boy.” What would that mean? If Courfeyrac’s feelings really are romantic, he doesn’t know what he would want to do about it. Courfeyrac doesn’t think Combeferre likes him romantically, but he isn’t always the best judge at discerning other people’s feelings towards him. 

 

It feels almost like defeat if Courfeyrac were to get into a romantic relationship, after all those people telling him that he will someday know how it feels to fall in love or that he will change his mind about romance eventually. He would just be proving them right, that he  _ is  _ a late bloomer, that he  _ isn’t  _ really aro, that he really  _ is  _ just like how everybody said he was, back when he thought he knew differently. 

 

Courfeyrac knows that having romantic feelings doesn’t make him not aromantic. There is a whole enormous spectrum. He could be demiromantic or grayromantic or a hundred other possibilities that he hasn’t even heard of yet. But he still can’t help but feel guilty, like he would be letting someone down or betraying them by admitting even this one exception to his lack of romance.

 

It isn’t that the aromantic community needs  _ him _ as proof that they are real and they won’t all fall in love eventually. Courfeyrac  _ knows _ that there are plenty of other aromantics who won’t ever fall in love; his other best friend Enjolras is an example of that.

 

But Courfeyrac still holds out on the hope that maybe this won’t be a problem at all. Maybe if he ignores this and convinces himself that what he feels isn’t really romantic, the suspicions will fade away until he forgets they ever existed, just like it has all those other times he thought he might have feelings for someone. 

 

There isn’t any proof that he likes Combeferre romantically, so all this wondering about giving up his aromantic identity and figuring out what other label on the spectrum might fit him better could all be just theoretical. Maybe in a week, he’ll be over that brief period of time where he doubted his aromanticness and continue on with his life like he always has whenever he thought he had a crush on somebody.

 

But this time feels different, and Courfeyrac knows that regardless of the true nature of his feelings, it won’t be a small thing like it has been before. He isn’t fooling anybody when he thinks his questions will vanish so soon.

...

The next day comes, and so does the next, and the next, and the fourth day after Courfeyrac started to question himself starts very similarly to the previous ones. It has all the doubt and self reflection that stems from a small amount of interactions with Combeferre. The ending, however, is a little different. 

 

This day is a Friday, and after school, Courfeyrac goes on a hike with Combeferre. It’s just the two of them with no other friends or family. They do it every Friday that the weather is good and not too hot and they have nothing else going on, which is more often than might be expected. Despite all his internal conflict, Courfeyrac still deeply enjoys spending time around Combeferre, and so he pushes his questions and confusion away to try to properly appreciate the experience.

 

The chosen trail that day is up a hill to a waterfall that only exists during the winter and early spring months when there is enough rainfall to fill the stream that feeds into it. The sun is out, which drives away the worst of the usual chill of early March. There are some leaf buds visible on the bare trees, their thin brown branches streaking across the crisp blue sky. Some trees are in flower, splashes of pink and white against the gray and green of the brush between them. The scenery is almost as beautiful as Combeferre himself, Courfeyrac thinks, and then immediately regrets it.

 

He isn’t sure whether he means it, or if part of his mind is so convinced that he romantically likes Combeferre that it makes thoughts up to try and prove it.

 

The two of them talk about many things on the way up, about school, and their lives outside of school, and Les Amis plans and problems, and the coming of spring. It’s peaceful, and there’s nowhere else Courfeyrac would rather be. The waterfall, when they reach it, is thin and trickling but wonderful nonetheless.

 

“Why is moving water so great?” Courfeyrac asks. “People love waterfalls; we love the ocean and waves. We love showers too. I get the practical applications like running water is great for the sewage system and cleaning and all, but I’m not sure the aesthetic side makes sense.” He half expects a scientific explanation, but he doesn’t get one.

 

Instead, Combeferre smiles fondly at him and Courfeyrac feels a pain in his chest, something wistful and profound and tender and nothing like anything he has ever felt before.

 

“Water is beautiful,” Combeferre agrees quietly. “Who can truly explain why a thing looks good?”

 

Their hike to that point was full of conversation, but now they have reached the end, there is only quiet between them. Not that Courfeyrac minds. He talks so much to so many people, but Combeferre is one of the few people he feels comfortable around in silence.

 

After a few long moments, they turn to leave and conversation sneaks back in.

 

Courfeyrac is in the middle of telling a funny story about his younger sister’s teacher when he trips on a tree root. Before he understands what is happening, Combeferre’s hand has already shot out to grab his arm and steady him. It doesn’t feel like fireworks or electricity, like books sometimes describe it as. But despite the brief contact through two layers of clothing, Courfeyrac can feel the calming warmth of Combeferre’s hand, and he misses it when Combeferre removes it. He would have been happy if Combeferre had kept his hand on his arm forever, Courfeyrac thinks. He doesn’t know what that means, if it means anything.

 

“You okay?” Combeferre asks.

 

“Yeah, I just didn’t see that root.” Courfeyrac grins to show everything is fine. It isn’t the root that’s giving him any problems. He resumes his story, but in the back of his mind, he is berating himself.

 

Because it must just be society’s pressure to find romance that makes him even consider the possibility. Combeferre is his best friend, and Courfeyrac knows that the lines between close friends and romantic partners can be a little blurry sometimes. He must be making it up because despite his two years in the aromantic community, part of him still can’t help but believe that he will find romance, that it is the only way to be truly happy and fulfilled in life. Courfeyrac is pretty sure he wouldn’t have thought anything of Combeferre catching him from falling if it happened a week ago.

 

It’s ridiculous for Courfeyrac to fall prey to such amatonormative beliefs now, after he’s gone through all the trouble of accepting he never would be a part of such things. He doesn’t have romantic feelings for Combeferre. None whatsoever.

 

There is a large part of him that is utterly unconvinced by this argument.

...

The weekend passes mostly uneventfully. Nothing changes much in regards to what Courfeyrac knows about his feelings, though he does get briefly stuck on the possibility that he really is just a late bloomer who hadn’t found the right one yet, and now that he has, he is alloromantic, normal.

 

The idea scares him for a while, and he can’t fully push it out of his mind, but he knows he doesn’t find anyone else remotely romantically attractive. Dating and kissing and marriage and everything else associated with romance still sounds gross when it involves Courfeyrac. It’s just that now, there is possibly one exception. Courfeyrac is pretty sure that he’s still somewhere on the aromantic spectrum, even if he does like Combeferre that way.

 

Days pass, but Courfeyrac is so busy thinking about each one individually that he doesn’t notice how much time has passed until he does the math and realizes that it’s been over a month since he first had the thought that he might be attracted to Combeferre. 

 

Each day spent with Combeferre in it seems to give Courfeyrac a slightly different conclusion as to the true nature of his feelings. One day, it’s romantic attraction that is too weak to do anything about, another it’s alterous attraction (which according to tumblr means an attraction that is not entirely romantic or platonic, but just the desire to be closer to someone), or a confusing mixture of sensual and platonic attraction, or it is romantic attraction but not the desire to date him, and of course all the other possibilities that he has already thought about. Despite the many weeks, he’s made no progress in deciding what his feelings mean.

 

Part of him thinks that simply because his state of confusion has lasted as long as it has means that his feelings towards Combeferre aren’t like the feelings he has towards other people. It’s another piece of evidence, but it doesn’t tip the scales to land on either possibility.

 

And there have also been other things distracting him from his study on his feelings during this time, so maybe his busyness is what makes coming to a decision take so long. (Courfeyrac sometimes tries to pretend ‘his study’ is scientific, analyzing each piece of evidence for and against his theory with as much impartiality as he can, but he knows that Combeferre would laugh at the idea of it being considered true science. Courfeyrac isn’t even writing anything down or keeping score or using any kind of scale but the vaguest and most subjective of kinds.)

 

Les Amis have to quickly schedule a protest in response to the pro-life activists that collect around the school entrance one day and hand out fliers to students coming in, especially girls with less modest clothing. AP exams approach, and even though Courfeyrac is only taking one AP class (Psychology), many of his friends are taking more, and their stress bleeds into discussions and Courfeyrac can feel the tension slowly increasing. He attends his school musical despite a small amount of bitterness. Although Courfeyrac plays a large roles in most plays, his singing is too terrible to let him be cast in any musicals, though he loves them very much. It still is a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and he is quite proud of the other members of the drama club. There is the usual homework and friendship going-ons (none of it is big or loud enough to be considered friendship  _ drama _ ) and each day feels packed, even without searching his heart.

 

Then one day Combeferre is at Courfeyrac’s house, and both of them are doing their homework. His sister and father are at a birthday party and his mother is still at work, so the house is quiet. Courfeyrac almost loses himself in the essay he is writing, his mind filled with nothing but thoughts of foils and symbolism and the French Revolution and sacrifice. 

 

He pauses in his writing when his hand starts to hurt (his English teacher insists that all her students turn in handwritten essays, but is otherwise a lovely person) and shakes his hand out. Combeferre is frowning at his Calculus textbook as if it will reveal the secrets to the universe if he just glares at it hard enough, so Courfeyrac figures that he wouldn’t mind a brief distraction.

 

“How much do you have to love someone to be willing to die for their husband to live?” Courfeyrac asks. He ignores the part of his mind that wonders whether he would be willing to do that for Combeferre.

 

“Probably a lot,” Combeferre replies. “You’re reading A Tale of Two Cities?”

 

Courfeyrac nods. “Because in this book, Sydney Carton isn’t really shown as a great guy. He’s everything that Darnay is not, and Darnay is supposed to be the ideal husband or something. But at the end, Carton still redeems himself and dies for Lucie’s happiness because he loves her so much. Or at least, that’s what it seems like the story is trying to tell me. So how much love does it take to redeem someone?” 

 

He knows he’s being a bit moody, because he appreciates the poetry of the ending and how well the story gathers all its loose pieces and ties them together in a heartbreaking knot, but thinking about it in a more analytical sense rubs his aromanticness the wrong way.

 

“I don’t think it’s love by itself that redeems Carton,” Combeferre says. “First of all, he might not be the classiest character, but he isn’t a bad person by any means. I would argue that he doesn’t need  _ redemption _ .”

 

“That’s fair,” Courfeyrac said, even though that wasn’t really the main point he was making.

 

“He’s also been in love with Lucie for many years before the sacrifice; that isn’t the thing that makes his character so interesting. It’s how he dies for her wellbeing and happiness, even though not doing anything would get her husband out of the picture and nobody would think to blame him. I also imagined that he also died for Darnay’s sake and their daughter’s sake too, not just for Lucie, but it’s been a bit since I last read the book, so that might be wrong. It’s his actions and his selflessness that makes him a good person, not the strength of his romantic feelings. Courfeyrac, you’re aromantic, but you’re the nicest and most loyal person I know, so it clearly isn’t romantic feelings that make someone good.”

 

“I mean, I know that real life isn’t what Dickens says it is,” Courfeyrac says. Everything in him feels squiggly and warm from the compliment. He knows that Combeferre is trying to comfort him by telling him his aromanticism doesn’t make him a lesser person. He doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to have such an amazing and supportive friend, but despite the happy squirming feelings in his belly, it makes him feel more guilty than pleased. Combeferre knows he is aromantic, so he will never have any suspicion that Courfeyrac might like him romantically. Lies of omission are one thing, but this is an outright lie, even if Courfeyrac didn’t know it would be one when he came out. Even Sydney Carton directly told Lucie he loved her during the earlier stages of their friendship.

 

“Regardless, I don’t think that Charles Dickens thinks romantic love fixes everything,” Combeferre says.

 

“You’re saying that it’s the way people act that matters more than the feelings behind them when it comes to quality of character?” Courfeyrac confirms. “That makes a lot of sense when you consider Madame Defarge... Can I use this in my essay? I’ll show my love and respect for you by—”

 

“By stealing my ideas?” Combeferre teases.

 

“No! I’ll credit you. I’ll show it by appreciating your ideas so thoroughly that I carefully consider them and give textual support and then pass them along, so my teacher will also know of your wise ideas, and therefore my vaporous feelings towards you become something real and solid. According to your theory.”

 

“Well, when you put it like that...” Combeferre grins, and Courfeyrac thinks that Combeferre might be blushing. “I suppose you can.”

 

Their eyes are meeting and neither of them look away for too long of a time. It’s almost terrifying, except that Courfeyrac never wants this moment to end, with Combeferre looking at him and smiling and just being so caring and smart and amazing. Courfeyrac feels so much for Combeferre, and he always does, but right now those emotions are taking up all his attention, drowning everything else out because he can’t ignore them or think about anything else even if he wants to, and Courfeyrac is so  _ in love _ with Combeferre because there is no other explanation for these feelings that are so different from any others he has ever felt.

 

It suddenly strikes Courfeyrac that he knows with certainty the answer to the question he’s been wondering about for a month, and he knows it’s not going to change tomorrow just because he’s feeling a little closer to his aromantic side that day. This is his final answer, and he is positive of its truth. 

 

He might have lost sight of who he was, but that’s okay because he can reinvent a new self that is still aro (spec) but also feels romantic attraction for Combeferre, and maybe those two people aren’t as different as he had once thought they would be. Instead of pitting them against each other, he can find the comfortable middle ground.

 

All his doubts and worries and confusion have temporarily left Courfeyrac’s mind because Combeferre is  _ still staring at him _ and Courfeyrac’s mind throws out the wild suggestion that maybe it’s possible that Combeferre likes him the same way, and Courfeyrac starts to believe with reckless hope that they could figure something out between them that fits both of them comfortably, and he could be at peace with being aromantic and in romantic love at the same time. For that moment, every wonderful possibility seems real.

**Author's Note:**

> The song is from I'm Not That Girl from Wicked because Courf is a musical theater nerd.
> 
> I tried writing two different versions of a second chapter to this, but neither of them turned out well, so I decided to just go ahead and post this. Someday, I might be able to finish this, but until then I'll just let this stand alone.


End file.
